Take the Money and Run (1969)

Woody Allen's second directorial effort (which is his first real directorial effort) is a movie that's difficult to have much passion towards. It's a light, funny, breezy 85 minutes that bogs down occasionally and is a bit too fragmented. It's tough to feel strongly for, or against, the movie.

With Take the Money and Run Allen chose to tell the story of fictional criminal Virgil Starkwell (played by Allen). The film is a "life and times" type deal told in mockumentary format. The unabashedly comedic movie combines Allen's famous one-liners and slapstick with a slight peppering of crime/prison movie parody. Like What's Up, Tiger Lily? the plot only roughly exists and functions more as a canvas for comedy than anything else. The difference between the two movies is that Allen had to cast actors and shoot scenes this time. You know, actually make a movie.

The movie is notable for being the first of Allen's films that he writes, directs, and acts in (I guess he technically did all three for What's Up, Tiger Lily?, but he was a voice actor, and the "direction" consisted more of some clever editing than anything else). This trifecta would become a staple of the director's movies. Up until 2004's Melinda and Melinda, Allen would appear as an actor in all but seven of his films (he writes and directs all of his features). Since then he's only acted in one of his movies (2006's Scoop).

Take the Money and Run is probably most significant for introducing the Woody Allen persona. That persona being the nebbish, neurotic, meek character he made famous. The character became so synonymous with Allen that most people generally assume the man is similar in real life (by most accounts I've read, he isn't). The movie version of Woody Allen exists with slight variations from film to film - in Take the Money and Run he's an idiotic, inept criminal. Allen almost always plays some variation of the character in his movies, so his initial appearance is pretty significant when looking at his filmography.

As for the film itself, it is standard early Woody Allen. Early Woody wants the audience to laugh and that's about it. In this, and any, mockumentary the comedy stems from how straight the entire ordeal is played. There's a gravely serious narrator (Jackson Beck) that is prone to giving the viewers odd, silly, and often nonsensical facts about the movie's characters. Virgil's escape plan from prison involves a fake gun made from soap and shoe polish. His parents appear frequently, with both disguised as Groucho Marx. The entire 85 minutes is comprised of one ridiculous event after another. The key to comedy in the mockumentary is that the characters aren't in on the joke - only the audience is. Virgil thinks his soapy gun is an ingenious idea. The narrator doesn't think there's anything silly when he tells us, "Food on a chain gang is scarce and not very nourishing. The men get one hot meal a day: a bowl of steam."

The jokes in the film range from absolutely hilarious to cringe-worthy. Most work, but quite a few fall completely flat - most notably, the constant interjections from Virgil's parents. The parents appear 4 or 5 times throughout the film, and by the second or third time they become annoying. The routine becomes stale - a routine, mind you, that wasn't that funny in the first place. These parental disruptions were the only major problem I had with the movie. The interruptions give the movie a bit of a disjointed feel. There are certainly other jokes that miss, but nothing on this large of a scale. A joke here or there missing is water under the bridge. An entire concept failing is a significant fault.

So, what does work? Well, the opening sequence, for one. The opening details Virgil's childhood and how he goes from social outcast to petty criminal to prison inmate. It's a very funny few minutes. There's also Virgil's botched bank robbery, which can be blamed on him for misspelling either gun (as gub) or act (as apt) on his robbery note. The clerks at the bank can't understand the note, and eventually the entire bank is huddled around trying to decipher what it actually says. There's no time for Virgil to actually rob the bank before the cops arrive. After all, he simply must be sure the bank employees completely understand everything his note says. The best part about this joke is later in the movie when Virgil casually calls his gun a "gub". Finally, there's a hilarious montage as Virgil gets ready in his apartment for his date with Louise. Once Virgil gets out of the shower, the camera remains focused on his upper half as he dresses and prepares for the date. In typical montagian (definitely a word I just made up) fashion, the last beat of the music plays as the door closes on Virgil walking out, seemingly ready to go on his date. The camera remains focused on the door. A few seconds later Virgil reenters the apartment with a towel still wrapped around his lower half. For me, this was the funniest gag in the film.

Over the course of a week I watched the movie 3 times, and each time I found it funnier. I found myself laughing in anticipation of certain jokes. That's got to count for something, right? As far as a point, the closest I could come to anything of substance was in a scene with Allen's first real-life wife, Louise Lasser. She plays a girl, Kay Lewis, who knew Virgil as a youth and is interviewed towards the end of the film to give her thoughts on him. She goes to great lengths to stress how amazed she is that such an idiot and complete nothing could have the brain to be a career criminal. Maybe there's a bit of social commentary in there about how our society tends to glorify and prop up certain aspects of criminal life (think Bonnie and Clyde, Al Capone, etc.). In reality, there isn't anything noble or worthy in being a criminal - only an idiot, like Virgil, would choose such a life. On second thought, I'm probably giving the movie too much credit. I don't think Take the Money and Run is concerned with anything more than giving it's viewers a few laughs. It succeeds in that regard, but in the end, while more polished than What's Up, Tiger Lily?, this is still a fairly minor film.

Shitty undies

Poopy McPoopPants pooped in his pants. Poopy McPoopPants did a shitty little dance. During his dance Poopy McPoopPants whined and said something about ants...and pants. Poopy McPoopPants wanted another chance. What's your stance? Does Poopy McPoopPants deserve a second chance? Or is your rebuttal a series of rants filled with cants? Feel free to prance your dumb ass to France. Next time, Poopy McPoopPants will shit in your pants.

What's Up, Tiger Lily? (1966)

It might be about 2 months later than expected, but I'm finally getting the ball rolling on this Woody Allen project. I promise to see this through to the end, although I'm not entirely sure just how far into the future that end will be. Ideally, it would be a little over 40 weeks away, but, well, you see how long it’s taken me to write the initial entry. Hopefully, things go more smoothly once I knock this first one out. Without further ado:

What's Up, Tiger Lily? marks the directorial debut of Woody Allen. To call it an odd first film would be a bit of an understatement. Allen didn't actually cast any actors for the film, nor did he shoot any scenes. Instead, he mashed 2 different Japanese spy films (International Secret Police: A Barrel of Gunpowder and International Secret Police: Key of Keys) together, wrote and dubbed his own dialogue (with help from voice actors), and created a comedy. The result is a film that looks like a serious, albeit poor, James Bond rip-off, and sounds like an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000.

The movie's "plot" focuses on Japanese James Bond clone Phil Moscowitz (Tatsuya Mihashi) as he attempts to retrieve a secret recipe for egg salad. That's right, the entire movie is about a secret agent trying to obtain a recipe for egg salad. With a plotline like that, there really isn't much more you need to know - the movie is obviously a farce. The plot is completely superficial and exists solely in order for Allen (and his various co-writers) to make as many jokes as possible in the movie’s 80-minute running time. The audience is inundated with one-liner after one-liner, as Allen keeps a brisk pace. The majority of the jokes hit their marks and their wide-ranging nature is one of the main reasons the movie works. The many various kinds of jokes (sexual innuendo, visual gags, racial jokes, etc.), combined with the fast pace, keeps the audience on their toes and gives the film a madcap vibe it otherwise wouldn't have had. While the style of dubbing over an existing work has been copied countless times, the movie doesn't feel worn or clichéd. Even though there are instances when some jokes fall flat, the majority of them remain funny enough (there’s a character who is essentially playing Peter Lorre, and even has the audacity to remark how difficult that impression is on his voice) to hold the viewer's interest.

What doesn't work in the film are the 2 separate musical interludes by The Lovin' Spoonful. Both are within the first 30 minutes of the film, and both are completely out of place. Both times the band is supposed to be playing at a Japanese club within the story of the movie, yet it’s apparent these scenes were shot at a different club. The group of teens dancing at whatever mystery location The Lovin' Spoonful has decided to inhabit isn’t even Japanese! We get an exterior shot of the club in Japan, then we cut to the band playing in front of dancing American teens! It’s painfully obvious that some studio exec decided to use the movie to market the band. Product placement – with people! The first interlude is only moderately annoying because it takes place towards the beginning of the film, and the movie has yet to really get rolling along. The second one, however, was infuriating. The movie is moving along quite well, the quips are being thrown out left and right, then BAM!, more Spoonful, more American teens dancing, more product placement, same awful band. It was like the movie had been intercut with an episode of American Bandstand.

The question I kept asking myself is this: What was Allen trying to accomplish with this movie? The movie is certainly a spoof of the spy film genre, and there are a few nods towards the unoriginality and utter ridiculousness of those kinds of movies, but there's not much else. The movie doesn't seem to have any other intentions, other than being funny and moderately clever. That's not a fault, as the movie succeeds in this regard, but it isn't consistent with the majority of Allen's work. I'm pretty sure Annie Hall (11 years and 6 features later) is his first attempt at anything with much substance, so I can't say this is much of a surprise.

I'm anticipating this being one of the more minor entries in Woody Allen's filmography. There isn't much to delve into as far as analysis, and since all Allen did was dub over an existing movie, there's nothing in the way of film technique to discuss. The film is a light, enjoyable exercise in silliness. I can't say that I'm disappointed, but when I look back on the film the only necessary descriptor is, "it was pretty funny." The movie does succeed on its own merits, so it should probably be considered a minor success. I’ve seen a few worse Woody Allen movies so I suppose I should be thankful I didn’t get a stinker to begin this project. Until next time…